


Inhale

by Graslistia



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: AU, And he was too alone, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Missy was tring to be his friend, Other, Songfic, They both needed it that much, To be not so alone, To be together, To be with each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11764353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graslistia/pseuds/Graslistia
Summary: AU to the middle of season 7, where after the farewell with Ponds the Doctor lives in the TARDIS on the cloud. One day the old friend swings by his place.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Вдох](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/315138) by Graslistia. 



> ♫♫ RAIGN - Don't Let Me Go

Inhale - the honey hint strikes in his nostrils. The Doctor stills and peers into a fuzzy reflection on the surface of the console. The new guise of an old enemy elusively recalls of his last wife - another victim of his regular rescue operations. The impertinence and the imperiousness, that declare themselves in the every woman's move: River loved to make decisions for him, control him, guide him and - what embarrassed him at first - kiss him as if she had some right to it, logged and certified. As if, in reality, she didn't share him with the whole world. The Master moves carefully for some reason, as if all of it is not a part of her plan, as if the Doctor doesn't fit into it or fits, but not like it supposed to be. She glances at his back perplexedly and looks around, trying to find a way to escape. In these latter days, the Doctor used to hide his guess-work, his knowledge from beloved ones and from his enemies. To pretend desperately, that what happens around him is a big surprise for him. But this time the curiosity overpowers him. He turns around in one expressly slow move.

"Looking for someone?" he mocks, leaning sideways on the console. His voice sounds suddenly very loud, blocking an engine roar and the Master's nervous sigh.

"Oh, yes," she responds immediately, raising her head a little and looking from under her hat. "The childhood friend. The selfish boy with big ambitions. Miss me?"

Her look becomes greedy for a moment, that much that neither the curved line of her red mouth nor cranky brows are able to hide it. The Doctor smiles thoughtfully, examining her, and doesn't hurry with an answer.

"I was swinging by yours for a couple minutes, actually," the Master pronounces very quickly, covering - an uncomfortable, stuffy for her - silence and diligently hiding her own feelings. "I didn't think that you'll notice. I was planned to swing by next week, but it seems, I miss-"

"Let's go to the theater," the Doctor interrupts her gently, pushing himself away from the control panel and overcoming smoothly the distance that separates them. "Maybe, in the twentieth century, in some big, roomy and luxuriantly furnished theater with arrogant actresses and narcissistic actors. To Shakespeare. Yeah, 'A Midsummer Night's Dream', I think, will suit. So, coming?"

"Is it a trick? Another attempt to capture me?" her right brow is slightly twitching, and, for some reason, hearts of the Doctor are beating too loud to let them keep the light tone of the conversation.

"No, it's an invitation to the theater."

"You miss me that much that you're ready to sit still for hours just to be near?" she sing-songs, attentively examing unfamiliar facial features and a cold shine of his eyes.

"And if that, so?" Something dark, imperious and disobedient slips out of him, erasing a smile, but immediately hides back inside like a wild animal hiding in its lair with the dawn. The Master interestedly inhales his scent coming closer and cautiously touches his forearms. She squeezes the soft cloth, slips over the shoulders and tenderly strokes his chin with her cold fingers. The Doctor slightly opens his mouth and learns his head away a little, making the room for himself. But stained with blood-red color nails hold him firmly in place. The Master looks at his eyes, and it becomes inconvenient to breathe: he had to remember what follows what. And with the first right inhale the honey hint, the scent of withering leaves and salt fill his lungs, blocking everything inside, forcing him to choke with a tart aroma of autumn.

"I agree with 'Shakespeare'," suddenly the Master pronounces, stepping back, still not dared to do something and still not got it from him. She is a little bit upset, but she doesn't hurry to leave. "I want to change clothes. Do not answer, I know where to go."

Underway removing the hat and dropping an old-fashioned coat, with a light clatter of heels she disappears in the dressing room, and the Doctor finally exhales. Jerking his shoulders nervously, he starts to pick up the accidentally remembered coordinates and listens to her lively singing and to the rustling of the TARDIS.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was only two days for them, their own little world where they were on the same side wandering and being happy. Not so alone. But it's time to say goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took more time than I was expecting but I'm very grateful if you waited for it.

Inhale - the honey hint strikes in his nostrils. Habitually - for two days. The Doctor lazily and slightly opens his eyes expecting to hear regular destination - something unfamiliar, somehow and certainly needy for his, the Doctor's, help - pronounced by the bored tone. They managed to visit a few planets liberating them from tyrants and prejudice right after how for a few hours arguing and hysterically laughing they put out the fire from the lost theater Globus. Unsuccessfully, of course, with prejudice, it grows like the mushrooms in the magic forest reviving itself. But woken up Doctor takes her by surprise making her wince and hastily look away. Her hair is already gathered in a cozy pannier, but the dress is old, yester - stained of the ground and scorched from the one side.

'Master,' the Doctor pronounces weeping his eyes and squinting at the searing light.

'It would be better for you to call me Missy, the people can get it in a wrong way. Calling a woman with a man's nickname - you will look like an ignoramus.' Tiredly, like to a little child, she answers straightening falling locks, blankly slipping by her sight around and looking for her hat.

'It's a little bit a childish, don't you think so? Missy.' He crumples pronouncing that name. That regeneration is clumsy and too naive, the Doctor plays the baby straitening his bow tie but the Master knows that it already was before. He was like that many years ago, now it just comes back to square again, the Doctor falls into the abyss of aging choking on knitting substance of living circle. Even Time Lords have their end.

The Doctor jumps and rushes in the console room making the cold wind under his cloak. He whirls around himself affectionately stroking buttons and cheerfully babbles:

'Planet Akhaten, there are beautiful views, the moon of Saturn - Titan, the Hydrocarbon Seas, oh, or planet with the best amusement park through no, it's a bad idea...' He turns around almost meeting face to face with the Master and awkwardly clinging at her sleeves with his fingers. The Doctor opens his mouth going to continue his endless list of 'places where to go' but he notices something important: she dresses like before and looks at him somehow desperately and decisively. The memory emerges in his head how one day, a long time ago she looked at him like that with other eyes tearing apart between her own prejudice that revives itself, too, and the desire to stay. Maybe, and a little bit - the desire to live. The Master looks at his eyes, and it becomes inconvenient to breathe, improperly and even wrong - it breaks the reciprocal silence. 

'You wasn't going to stay,' he inhales swallowing the honey hint with his mouth.

'You should erase your memories unless the order of events will be disrupted.' She said quietly not letting go with her painful stare, not stepping back. 'Your next regeneration will be surprised meeting me.'

The Doctor swallows his chuckle and wryly grins:

'I have a future! Such a nice. It even includes you.'

He leans closer and slightly kisses her in the forehead, choking on the hint of her hair, memorizing the overflows of tints and forgetting for a second that he will be alone again. The Master pushes him away suddenly, pulling back and hurries up to the exit lowering her head so he can see only the dark-red berries. She grasps the handle and only on the threshold turns around and pronounce with a smile:

'I will send you a girlfriend, my dear Doctor.'


End file.
